


Static

by ifnotfornatasha



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Gen, Gina Linetti is a Good Bro, Humor, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Roger Peralta Bashing, Rosa Diaz is a Good Bro, Sal's Pizzeria, it's actually surprisingly humorous for a story with these topics, or whatever it's called I don't feel like searching it but it's here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifnotfornatasha/pseuds/ifnotfornatasha
Summary: Gina knows everything about Jake.Aka, according to Jake, Roger used to be physically abusive. According to Gina, Roger still is. And she's right (she always is.)





	1. Barely Stable

Gina remembers Jake the Kid as a bruised little stick figure. Never so underweight that it was a health concern, but never quite reaching the same body weight as the other boys either.

Jake the Kid used to wear disgusting pun t-shirts, because he thought that they were cool even though they were not. Like, at all. He also had a sweater phase, because his mom had a sweater phase and he would advertise her awful knitting around the school. Someone once said that he looked like a homeless hobo monkey and the nickname caught on, so the sweaters stopped after. That is, after Gina told Karen about it, because Jake was an idiot and decided to not tell his mom. Or anyone, which was not only stupid because of the whole _continuous bullying_ thing, but also because you can't keep secrets from Gina. Ever.

Eventually, people forgot about the homeless hobo monkey sitch and Jake grew out of his weirdo-fetus stage into his weirdo-kid stage.

Something that he never ended up growing out of was: the hoodies. When he was little, he used to hog Gina's cousin's hoodies, which were always too big on tiny Jake. He'd wear them to cover up bruises and end up looking like a homeless drunkard (but not a hobo monkey.)

He's older and a police officer now, so he doesn't have to cover up his bruises. He's actually more likely to show off his gross bruised skin nowadays, particularly the bits of weird coloration that he says look like Bruce Willis. They never look like Bruce Willis, but Jake says they do anyway. Again, he's an idiot.

He never really ended buffing up when he got older. He was still kind of a stick, but since Jake had succeeded at his lifelong dream of becoming the less-cool version of John McClane, his words not hers, he had to have some muscle mass for the job. Keyword, _some_.

He still wore hoodies though. Gross, stained, unwashed hoodies. Gina was sure that he still owned one of her cousin's hoodies in the back of his closet, probably only a little bit too small.

There were a lot of things in their childhood that Gina loved (ew, _love_ ) but also a lot of things that she hated. Things that she wishes had been different. Things that should have changed.

The biggest flaw of Jake's childhood never did.

•

Roger Peralta is an ass faced butter humper.

Before he left Jake at seven years old, he was the reason that Jake had to wear hoodies around his teachers and classmates. Never around Gina, because Gina knew everything and it was pointless to try to hide anything from her, as he found out after the sweater incident.

Another thing that has never and likely will never change: Jake has always repressed everything. Like, everything. That's his _(very bad)_ solution to all of his problems. He tries his best to laugh and make light of his past, but it's hard to do so when your past is your dad beating the shit out of you because you found him while someone was creaming his Twinkie.

So naturally, when Peralta Senior, the famous interior decorator, shows up at the precinct, Gina is a little bit suspicious. She's already giving him her bitch glare, but he hasn't looked her way yet.

Jake had mentioned texting his dad earlier in the week, but Gina just assumed Roger would bail. He did not.

She  _did_ try giving Jakester the Talk, but he evidently didn't listen.

_(("The jingle-jangler is coming?"_

_"Goose, please don't refer to him as any of your weird euphemisms."_

_"Hey, he's the one that's always baking the potato and then beating the carrot afterwards."_

_"Gina."_

_"You're the carrot."_

_"I'm an adult now. I've grown up. I haven't seen him in forever and it's not as if I'll be seeing him in the presence of girls this time 'round either. He just has a case for me, that's it, I swear."_

_"Yeah, sure. But I'm not going to promise to not call him the bow-chick-a-wower that he is if you bring him to the precinct."))_

Roger is still talking to Jake, presumably about his case or whatever. Jake looks tense. Roger has his hand on his shoulder. Gina is trying to burn a hole into Roger's head with sheer force. If she has to look up from her phone, she's damn well going to do it for a good reason.

He finally looks up at her with a questioning glance and Jake follows his gaze, eyes narrowing when they land on Gina.

_Absolutely say whatever you wanna say_ , is what he's trying to portray at that moment and definitely not, _Gina don't you fucking dare._

And since she's just that great of a friend, she listens to what Jake is obviously pleading for her to do and says, rather loudly and with a wave, "Hi, Mr. Pullout Couch."

Roger takes a double take. "Linetti?"

Ew. Her name out of his mouth.

"Yup."

She directs her gaze back at her phone. She forgot the icky feeling in her stomach that Roger gave her.

Gina waits a minute before raising her eyes again. Jake is writing things down on a notebook that she is 99% sure is filled with mostly doodles of either _Peralta + McClane 4eva_ or _Peralta + Santiago 4eva_. Maybe both. Jury's still out. She'll have to check later.

Jake gives Roger a tight smile and looks extremely uncomfortable when Roger gives his shoulder a slight squeeze before marching out of the door. Jake's just sitting at his desk now, staring off into space. He should probably be doing his job, or whatever. Gina's not one to judge.

Santiago must be in the bathroom or something because she isn't at her desk. Gina knows everything, but she lets things slip when they come to Amy, plus Gina was busy trying to kill the muffin-maker with eye-contact alone. Her fiery gaze had been channeled with the intent to murder, not with noticing things. Especially not Santiago things. Ew.

Gina rolls her chair back, intending to wheel her way over to Jake before ultimately deciding that it's more effort than it's worth. So instead, she strolls _with her legs_ (ugh) over to wear Jake is sitting, still doing absolutely nothing. She plucks his notebook out of his hand and reads his notes. _Blah, blah, blah,_ who cares, _blah, blah, blah_. The most notable thing about his writing is that it's actually readable to the common, lesser eye.

Gina crouches down into the space that the general direction of where Jake is hopelessly staring off into is. She waves the notebook in his face. Carefully, she inches it closer and closer to his nose. His eyes are red.

The notebook makes home base and lightly jabs his nose bridge.

He takes a shaky breath in.

Gina takes that as her cue. She takes the back of his chair and wheels him into the evidence room, punctuating their departure with a delicately put, _"Toodles, bitches!"_

•

Jake has his head in his hands, still trying to stave off the oncoming panic.

Gina squats. "I know this is a really bad time, but just take this moment to understand that Gina is always right."

Jake takes a sharp breath, the first in a few seconds, and barks out a light laugh. He refuses to look Gina in the eye, but the laughing doesn't stop there. It's a watery, gross laugh intertwined with choked up breathing and ugly crying. He leans his head forward, smashing it into the crook of Gina's neck. She's sure it's intentional, he just probably didn't mean to fall directly onto her collar bone. He adjusts his head into a more comfortable position, his hair brushing against her neck. She makes a mental note to make him get a haircut.

He continues laughing. He always laughs when he's like this.

It's also always a little bit disturbing and off-putting, but that's honestly how Gina would describe most people. But Jake isn't most people; she _knows_ Jake. She can help him. She knows how to do that.

"Dude." Gina says, threading her fingers through his greasy, stinky hair. "Please relearn how to breathe."

_And also please learn how to take a shower and brush your teeth,_ but she doesn't say that part out loud.

She tries not to coddle Jake when he's panicking. He gets annoyed with her and tries to walk away, which is hard when you don't know how to breathe and attempt to add walking into the equation.

Gina knows that Jake already knows that he's supposed to be breathing, or at least knows _somewhat._ And he's done this enough times to understand on some level that he isn't dying even if he feels like he is. So she just keeps her hand in his hair and rubs his scalp, thanking god (Beyoncé) that Charles isn't here to aw at her motions. He'd likely be more concerned about Jake, his BFF or whatevs, but that was beside the point.

Jake's breathing has mostly steadied out, aside from a few abnormalities. It's the Power of Gina.

"Sorry." he says, for no reason at all.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." Gina says, lightly and gently, affectionately continuing to pet his hair. He knows she's not mad at him (and if he doesn't then she'll whack him later.) But if he's going to say something stupid, so is she.

They sit in silence for a few more moments before Gina interrupts the somewhat awkward air.

"You should drop corn dog's case."

That makes him pull away. His eyes are still red and he quickly wipes away his tears with his stupid hoodie that probably has snot on it's sleeves. Gross.

"What? No, I can handle it."

Gina does nothing but stare at him.

"Today was just an outlier."

"Ignoring the fact that you apparently know what _outlier_ means, if Charles or, actually, _Amy_ tried to take a case that made her have the reaction you just had, you would tell her to drop it."

"Well, yeah, but that's different."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is," Jake insisted, "Dad didn't even do anything, it was just me being a spaz."

_He's not your dad_ , Gina wants to say. Instead, she argues, "So you're just gonna wait until he _does_ do something?"

"Gina, he's not going to _do_ anything, it's been years, he's learned–"

"Jake, you idiot, no, he hasn't."

"How do you know that?"

"How do you know that he's not going to do something bad to you? Like, something real bad?"

"Guess we're at stalemate." Jake says, because he's annoyingly stubborn like that.

"Better safe than sorry."

"I have literally never listened to that saying."

"That's not true, you looked both ways before crossing the street once."

"Yeah, _once_ , Gina. I've also been hit by a car."

That was very true.

"It's always good to try new things?" Gina tries.

"Is that what people say about cocaine?" Jake shoots back.

"I don't know, go ask Terry for a speech, I'm just here to tell you to please not be an idiot."

"I'm not going to be an idiot," Jake says, pushing out of his chair, "He's just my dad."

He's walking out of the room then and taking his chair with him.

"That is literally the stupidest excuse I've ever heard." Gina replies as he's almost out the door, not bothering to raise her voice.

He can hear her loud and clear. He just doesn't care.

•

By the time Gina gets back to her desk, Jake and Amy are _not at all flirting, Gina, shut up about it, we're just friends._

Psh, yeah, kiddo, sure.

Through the power of eavesdropping, Gina learns that Jake's going to be going over the case with the wiener slider after work. He's describing it more as a fun family bonding-time, but to Gina, it's sounding more like an excuse to get Jake alone.

She doesn't like it.

Gina tells Jake as much when he's about to drive home, popping up from the opposite side of the car as he's about to open his door and scaring the shit out of him. It's hilarious.

"Gina, what the fuck!"

No time for small talk. "You can bet your booty that I am coming with you."

"'You can bet your booty, I'm coming with you' title of your sextape, and also, again, Gina, _what the fuck!_ "

"I ain't leaving you alone with that horny bitch." Gina says, indignant.

"That's my dad you're talking about."

" _Exactly_."

Jake sighs, shaking his head. Exasperatedly, he compromises with her. "You're allowed to come on one condition."

Ah. He's learning.

"I will not murder him, I swear."

"Okay, _two_ conditions," Jake amends, "One, no murder. Two, you've gotta call him by his actual name. The one on his birth certificate. And the first one. Not his full name. You have to call him Roger."

"As long as I can still insult him in my thoughts, Jake-y," Gina says, "Because it's the thought that counts."

"Yeah, whatever, just don't terrorize my dad."

"Ugh, _fine_."

•

"Hello Ro- _ger_." Gina enunciates, side-eyeing Jake, who rolls his eyes.

"Good to see you, Linetti." he says, giving her a gross bro hug. Gina tries to keep her discomfort to a minimum, but Jake's laughing at her disgust, trying to keep his giggles lowkey. And failing. Brutally.

"This is perfect." Jake says to her, walking past the border of the devil.

"I'm holding back so much right now."

"I know, you look so constipated!" he grins, way too excited for someone locked in a room with the guy who used to hit him regularly.

Roger is ignoring their antics and just gets right to the case. He looks uncomfortable. Good.

"So these are the suspects..."

Gina drones out that non-motherfucker's voice after that. She couldn't care less about the crime that she knows he probably committed; whatever the crime is, she wasn't listening. Jake's just unwilling to see the truth.

Jake's pointing to some guy with an earring and a misshapen mowhawk. Gina can already hear Jake's voice, _misshapen mowhawk, great name for a band._

Apparently, they're going to go check that guy out. The butter churner and Jake are going to do police work or whatever. The doodle-bonker knows Misshapen Mowhawk's schedule, yadda, yadda, stakeout.

Gina hates stakeouts.

Boring.

•

Misshapen Mowhawk's stakeout is a bust.

Gina stayed with them for the entirety of watching poor, unsuspecting Misshapen Mowhawk go through several phone calls before throwing his phone on the ground and smashing it. And then getting drunk, because he had bottles of alcohol in his backpack. And then it started raining, so he took off his shirt, winging it around his head like a lasso, singing (drunkenly and badly) about a girl named Winifred. Who he apparently called Fred.

They left when he started to piss on a shrine he'd made with chopsticks for his beautiful, shapely love, Fred, who apparently had lovely large breasts.

They're all frustrated. Gina's more bored, but a little frustrated as well. Mostly frustrated that she got so bored that she read Jake's notes on the case, which were awful, but did tell her that Roger is saying that he's been framed for drug possession and smuggling.

And also that Misshapen Mowhawk didn't really do anything other than "look suspicious."

Great.

Jake scratches his head, reviewing the evidence back at cucumber's house. "Dad, there's not much stuff pointing to... y'know, someone else doing it."

Whore pauses. He squints his eyes at Jake and rolls his shoulders back. "Excuse me?"

"Y'know, framing you for possessing drugs. Or whatever." Jake says hesitantly. Gina is almost inclined to correct him. It was also smuggling them, but it's cool, whatever.

"Jake. _Son_." Roger placates. Jake immediately lightens up at that second word. Gina wants to box his head in. Both of them.

"I didn't do it, I swear. It was Joe, you've gotta believe me!" he pleads. And all Gina can think of at first is: Joe? Misshapen Mowhawk's name is _Joe?_ Disappointment of the year.

And then the second thought is _Jake, really?_

Because a moment later he goes: "Yeah, I believe you."

Ugh.

"I'm not saying you did it, I'm just saying that whoever _did_ do it, covered up their tracks really well." Jake says, excusing the older, worse and grosser Peralta from the crime.

"Sure sounds like you're accusing me." he grumbles. Because of course, Roger Peralta, _doinker_ of the century, just has to be unnecessarily aggressive.

"I'm not." Jake swears, eyes on the monster masher, waiting for him to make a move. His eyes flash to Jake's, then Gina's, both intently watching him.

Roger slams his hands on the table before promptly turning around to punch the wall. Hard. It makes a loud _BANG_ noise and both Peraltas recoil. One, for the pain in his fist, the other, because his "dad" just punched a wall.

Gina and Jake side-eye each other.

_I told you so._

_Shut up, Gina._

"So, this has been fun–" Gina clasps her hands together, "– But we're done here, right, Jacob?"

" _What?_ " Roger seeths, "But someone's framed me!"

"Mhm, kay kay, IDC, woman shrugging emoji, vabamos!" Gina rambles, grabbing Jake's arm and trying to drag him away. He annoyingly stays put.

"Jake."

" _Gina_." he replies, pulling away from her arm. "If he says he didn't do it, he didn't do it."

"Innocent until proven guilty!" the kitty-feeder proclaims.

"But you saying innocent until proven guilty just says to me that you really are guilty but you're just hiding behind a very light shield of innocence which is ultimately false and you think that nobody sees it but _I_ do because I'm _Gina Linetti_ , ugh!" Gina exclaims, speaking quickly, " _Boring!_ Think of a better plot twist next time, Roger."

He gives her a weird look before ignoring her, which, um, rude.

"Ah-ha!" the cream donut filler gasps, pointing at a way less cool looking guy than Misshapen Mowhawk, "It's him! I remember him from outside of my apartment."

"Uhh, what?" Gina asks, puzzled.

"I always saw him outside, just standing. Watching." he explains, punctuating his word with dramatic hand gestures.

"Ew." Gina says, just as Jake says, "Of course!"

Wait. Wait a minute. Oh no. Oh god. Not again.

"Does this mean–"

•

"Stakeout time!" Jake grins, offering a few gummy bears to Gina.

She grumbles and swipes the whole bag from him, pouting as she pops them into her mouth.

"Hey!" Jake complains. "Actually, not to worry, I brought another bag!

Indeed, he did. Ugh. Why.

He chugs the bag into his mouth, somehow managing not to choke.

Ugh. _Why_.

"That's him!" shouts Taco Bell's #1 customer, pointing at less-sad but also somehow scruffier Misshapen Mowhawk. LSBASSMM for short. Pronounced Lisbasm.

... Lesbian.

As Jake would say: Noice.

Speaking of Jake, he's rushing out of the car, telling them to _stay put, you guys are civilians_ and the only thing Gina is thinking is: _Bullshit_.

Roger fucking Peralta, or, not fucking Peralta (Karen deserves better) is already out of the car, chasing after Lesbian and no way is Gina going to not also follow Lesbian.

"Gina! Stay in the car!" Jake yells, "Dad, you too! _You guys!_ "

"Being a cop is a state of mind, Jake; I can totes catch this criminal!" Gina rebutts. Ha. Butts. But anyway, now she has a point to prove.

She does indeed, tackle Lesbian, knocking him to the ground, before realizing, "Oh shoot, are you actually guilty?"

She leans down to him, he's on the ground, face first and she's straddling his body. Awks. "Sorry, there's some peeps who think you're a bad guy. So like, just tell me, have you done anything illegal, lately?"

Lesbian is full-on freaking out. "No! I mean, I watched A Simple Favor a few days ago on a _totally_ sketchy website but I can't help it! I love Blake Lively."

"Oh my god," Gina exclaims, "It was soooo good, right? Honestly I can see Anna Kendrick marrying me. I mean, there's a long list of women that I'd prefer over her but she's probably in the Top Twenty-Two. I'd obviously be down with marrying Beyoncé; she's the Queen Bee and #1 on my list."

"Honestly, I think Beyoncé is kind of overrated."

"Ew! You're overrated. Now you're like, really under arrest."

"Are you even a police officer?"

"Spiritually? Yes."

•

Gina eventually leaves Lesbian behind, after a little bit more interrogation.

His aura was just insufferable to be around. Like, seriously. Beyoncé? Overrated? What a loser. He needs to get his priorities straight.

Ugh. Anyway. Where's Jake?

...

Well.

Shit.


	2. Off the Rails

~~~~Rosa was, to say the least, annoyed at having to interrupt her evening yoga to answer the insistent calls of Gina Linetti.

"Rosa, hey doll!"

"What." Rosa snaps.

"So, I may have gotten a little distracted and lost something a little important?"

"If you lost my tights that I lended you for Floorgasm, I am not giving you another pair." Rosa growls. _And I'll probably come to your place with a flame thrower,_ she thinks, but doesn't say aloud.

" _Relax_ , they're fine."

"Ugh, good. What else do you have that's both important and also something I care about?"

"I mean, I have several important blankets, jackets, paintings, CDs, records, and dolls that you _should_ care about–"

"What in _specifics_ , Gina." Rosa asks impatiently, eager to get back to her workout.

Rather nonchalant for the situation at hand, Gina replies, "Mhm, yeah, I may have lost Jake."

"Lost him? As in, it's a busy crowd and you need me on speakerphone to do bird calls at him or like, he's missing."

"He's been missing for twenty minutes."

"So? Maybe he just saw another Die Hard poster. Or a gummy bear sale."

"Nah, he was kind of chasing a criminal."

Rosa groans, pulling her the elastic out of her hair. She can forget about her yoga for the night. "Gina, you really should have started with that."

•

Jake is 100% completely fine.

Having possibly broken ribs, some definitely broken fingers, and feeling like your face is going to explode are all things that Jake probably wouldn't include in his ideal day, but really, he's _great_. Fantastic, in fact.

_(("Wait, dad, stop–"))_

He's alone. Roger left. Gina's gone. He doesn't really remember where he is. Like, he's in a public bathroom for sure, one of those one-roomers, but he doesn't remember where that bathroom _is_.

He pulls his phone out of his jean pocket (ouch, _movement_ ), calls the first person that comes up on his contacts; hopes it's Gina but doesn't know for sure.

"Hello?" the person on the other line answers.

"Hey," Jake replies, voice scratchy.

_(("Da–"_

_His hands squeeze harder.))_

"Jake? Are you okay?"

Oh. Amy.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry," Jake croaks apologetically, "Wrong number."

"Your voice sounds awful. Are you sick or something? Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." he says, quickly.

"You don't sound fine," Amy argues. She sounds concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Just got in a fight with a perp." Jake says and, well, _great_. Now he's calling his dad a criminal.

"Oh my god, do you need the hospital? Actually, you're probably going to say no," Amy rambles, mostly to herself and also totally right, "What are your injuries? Wait, where are you? I can drive you, I don't have anything going on tonight–"

"I'm okay, Amy," Jake laughs, wincing as he laughs and tries to stand at the same time; both actions that his ribs don't agree with. His laughter turns into a painful coughing fit, and he can hear Amy's frantic concerned words coming through the receiver. Jake quickly puts in: "Sorry. Sorry. It's just– I don't wanna bother you."

"What? You're not bothering me. I mean, it's bothering me a little that you aren't letting me help you, but you're not bothering me, I swear. Just let me get you to the hospital." Amy explains, firmly but gently all at once. Jake gives her a soft smile; not that she can see it.

So Amy cares about him. Huh.

"Never said I had bad injuries."

"Yeah, but you never said you didn't and I really doubt that you'd actually tell me if something was bad," Amy says, completely correct. Again. "So just tell me where you are. Please."

"No, it's okay," Jake reassures her, ignoring her sounds of protest, "Gina's close–" Probably, "–She can drive me. You know she will if she decides I'm really that bad."

"Fine." Amy agrees, but she still sounds pretty frustrated and doubtful. "But if the next time I see you, if you're hiding an injury– _and I will be able to tell!_ I'm going to grab you by the ear, drag you to the hospital and throw you inside the doors myself, I swear to god."

Jake carefully nods to himself, taking in her words. "That's a little bit sexy."

Amy chuckles over the phone but still exclaims, "Jake,  _come on!_ "

Jake laughs too, though, lightly. "I'll see you at work."

"I'm hoping that I'll see you safe."

"Bye." he hangs up and leans his head against the wall.

He checks his messages to find seven messages and a missed call from Gina, plus two from Rosa.

_**(9:12pm) goose:** jake where ya at_  
_**(9:12pm) goose:** I caught lesbian and he's bad but like not in a "he framed the suckiest peralta" way_  
_**(9:12pm) goose:** he's literally the suckiest peralta lol_  
_**(9:13pm) goose:** but yeah lesbian did commit a crime but you didn't arrest that bitch who said RiRi was a slut so I guessed that I couldn't arrest this guy_  
_**(9:14pm) goose:** also his name is lesbian FYI_  
_**(9:20pm) goose:** and like really where are you_  
_**(9:34pm) goose:** I'm looking for you and I can't find you and if you don't text back in ten minutes I'm calling Rosa_

Shit.

_**(11:18pm) chicken:** i'm okey dokey lemon smokey_  
_**(10:18pm) goose:** oh my god Jake I thought you were dead_

Gina's face pops up on the screen. He accepts her call.

" _Jake!_ Rosa and I have been looking everywhere for you."

"Did you tell her?" Jake blurts out.

"She didn't ask," Gina reassures him hastily, "You're an idiot, you go missing all the time. She was kind of weirded out that I cared _so much_ that you were gone, though, and– oh, she's taking the phone now, _byyyyyyyee_ –"

Her voice fades into the background as Rosa puts the phone to her ear. "Jake. What happened."

It's not really a question, more like a demand.

"A perp just got away from me." Jake says, trying to not talk shit about his dad again. "I got lost."

Plus, the perp (Lesbian?) _did_ get away, it's just that he's not the reason Jake feels like his face is currently being tasered. And his ribcage. And his fingers on his left hand. Actually, just about everything hurts at least a little.

"Yeah, whatever." Rosa says, disbelieving of his excuse. He'll have to think of a better one. ("Got lost?" _Really?_ ) Excuses are a lot harder when you're an adult. Jake can't exactly say he fell off a swing or out of a tree without the repercussions of people asking why he was doing those things in the first place (although, he did actually fall out of a tree recently. But that's beside the point.)

Speaking of questions, Rosa asks, rather plainly, "Where are you?"

"Uhhhh–" Jake stumbles to the door and unlocks it, walking out of the bathroom like the hunchback of Notre Dame, "–I'm in a bar."

" _Which bar,_ dum-dum?"

"Give me a sec," Jake replies, making his way to the door of the place, the bar's music pounding into his head the whole way. There are people dressed in next to nothing, "mysterious" stains all over the place, strippers left and right, as well as some people _in the act._ He doesn't really have to see the sign to know where he is at that point; no other bar is as sleazy or sex-driven as this one. "I'm at Duff's."

"We already checked that bar." Rosa comments, voice laced with a hint of confusion and also disgust, which was warranted when it came to Duff's. Jake can hear rustling in the background; plus the sounds of Gina squawking about something.

"I was in the bathroom." Jake says hoarsely.

"1-10, how bad are you?"

"Like, 4?"

"You have several broken bones, don't you."

"Yerps!" Jake chirps, because, just like how it is with Gina, it's impossible to lie to Rosa.

"We'll be there in two minutes." she responds and the phone clicks off.

•

"You look like shit," is the first thing that Rosa has to say to Jake once she and Gina step off of her motorcycle. The second thing she says is: "If you weren't already so beat up I would beat you up."

"She was real worried." Gina interjects, "Also, we should get to your car, because Rosa was right, you do look like shit and you will probably _fly off_ of her motorcycle if you try to ride that beauty because girl, your body be looking broken."

"I'm okay." Jake groans, pushing himself away from the wall he'd been leaning on to try to stand by himself. This does not work. Gina grabs his arm and puts it around her shoulders to try to keep him from falling. He hisses at the movement, grabbing his ribs. Gina steadies him, as gently as she can while keeping them both upright.

If Rosa was anyone else, she'd say they looked cute.

But she was not anyone else.

And they did not look cute.

_Ahem_.

Jake spotted her staring, glanced at Gina and uselessly stated, "I'm okay."

"Your fingers are broken. Your ribs are broken. Your face looks broken. Your voice sounds like a horse kicked you in the throat, repeatedly. And then sat on you. What part of that screams okay to you, Jake?" Rosa chides.

He just grins at her. "I've had worse. I can survive this."

Gina looks disgruntled at that comment. For some reason. He _is_ a police officer, he _has_ gotten hurt before. Probably with worse injuries than the ones he just got. It's not as if he keeps his injuries secret either. He brags about them and three years ago, when he broke his toe, he spent every second he could talking about how _John McClane had a foot injury too, guys_ which was followed by Hitchcock saying something about foot fungus that Rosa tuned out.

He's been shot, stabbed and one time a part of his hair was lopped off, which didn't necessarily hurt him, but hurt everyone who had to look at him for the next few weeks. He's had internal bleeding, cracked ribs, concussions... it's just part of the job. Which is why it makes absolutely zero sense for Gina to be frowning over a proven _fact_. And not even one that Jake is really insecure about. He thinks his scars make him cooler.

In fact, Gina had been acting weird throughout the entire time that Rosa had been by her side this night. First, why was she even with Jake in the first place? He was hunting a criminal and he brought _Gina?_

Second, why was she so worried about Jake being gone missing for twenty minutes? Like, yeah, Rosa was worried too, he'd been trying to put someone behind bars and then he wasn't answering his phone, but he's _Jake_. He's perfectly capable of holding his own for _twenty minutes_. Especially since Gina had said that the so-called criminal was actually just a kinky James Corden-type in college with a bad taste in music. The guy didn't even have a criminal record and yet, Gina kept yabbering on about the various ways that Jake could've been killed (and if Rosa was being honest, she was taking notes.)

Gina shouldn't have been as stressed as she had been, snapping at Rosa and getting agitated so quickly. Gina never gets _angry_ when she's anxious. Usually she just spouts off random animal facts or weird things she knows about Beyoncé.

Thirdly, why was Gina _right?_ The guy that Jake was after had apparently been long gone, and then all Jake has to say is that he got _lost?_ He evidentially had zero idea where he was and he'd been beaten to hell.

Something's going on.

Lowly, Gina whispers to Jake, probably not wanting Rosa to hear, " _Where is he now?_ "

" _I don't know. I blacked out_." Jake whispers back. Rosa narrows her eyes.

Hm.

She swings her leg over her motorcycle. "I'll see you two at the hospital."

•

As Rosa zooms away, Gina gives Jake a Look once they start walking. A _we're-talking-about-this-right-now_ look. And Jake can't escape her. Because his body be broken, girl. And she's holding him upright. More as a precaution, really, since he can _technically_ walk, he just feels like he might pass out, vomit or both. And the world is spinning, a little bit. _Ugggggghhhhhh_.

"Okay, so maybe you were right." Jake admits.

"Maybe?" Gina asks, almost offended, "I was most definitely right, kiddo."

"Yeah, yeah." Jake says, waving her off.

They stumble to his car in silence, for a bit. It's not uncomfortable.

... The silence. The _silence_ isn't uncomfortable. The walk is very much lacking in comfort. Even as gentle as Gina is holding him, every little touch hurts.

"What set him off?" Gina asks, interrupting the quiet.

"I let the criminal get away."

_(("You call yourself a detective? What kind of bullshit is that?" Roger hisses before pounding Jake's head into the sink._

_It's the last thing he remembers before going unconscious.))_

"Lesbian's a criminal for being a Beyoncé hater but by your sucky standards he's not a criminal," Gina informs him. Then, after a beat, "He's not guilty."

"How do you know?"

"I'm basically psychic, Jake, that's how well I understand the human mind." Gina says, gesturing to her forehead. Jake snorts. She drops her hand and gets serious. "But really. First, he told me that he illegally watched A Simple Favor. Which, fair. I did the same, don't arrest me."

Jake rolls his eyes; he totally did the exact same too. He's broke, Gina's lazy.

She continues, "Then, after the whole Beyoncé debacle, I kind of wanted to be sure, because I'm the best detective at the nine-nine, so I kept pressing him, right? Well, let's just say I got TMI in everything that he thought might be considered illegal. Including, but not limited to, his sexual habits."

"Ew. What'd he do?" Jake asks as they near his car.

"He likes to dress his girlfriend up as a charmander and he wondered if that was bestiality."

"Honestly?" Jake says with a soft laugh as Gina opens the passenger door for him, "I've heard of weirder."

"Gross. I do not want to see your search history." Gina informs him, wrinkling her nose. She plops herself into the driver's seat and Jake tosses her his keys, hoping she won't break any traffic laws.

It's nice, chatting with Gina, like old times, even if it's on their way to the hospital... Maybe a little bit _too_ much like old times.

He sinks lower in his seat, silently hoping that it would swallow him whole so that he wouldn't have to deal with any of this.

Gina starts the engine and they're on the road, both still mostly intact.

•

The nurse is rattling off a bunch of medical terms that Jake doesn't really understand.

He knows what a concussion is and what fractures mean but he's pretty sure that this nurse is just screwing around with the rest of the names. He's compelled to say bless you after she's done.

The lady is ready to ask him questions about what happened straight away, but Rosa butts in to say that she can instead, since she's with the police.

Jake doesn't really know how these things are supposed to go, but the nurse leaves them be a moment later nonetheless. Maybe it's legal, maybe it's just because Rosa's scary.

She turns to him. "So, who did this to you?"

"A whore." Gina replies, stepping forward, "And not in a fun way."

Gina just cannot let go of the whole dad thing. It's annoying.

"I didn't get a real good look at his face." Jake says, glaring, and it's true, technically, since he'd been covering his face with his arms as much as he could so he really didn't get to see his dad's face very much. Which wasn't a bad thing, both because he needed to protect his face and also because he didn't exactly want to look at his dad, see the proof of how the older Peralta was feeling: _disappointed_. Neither of those things eventually panned out for him, since his face was swollen and his dad had made sure that Jake knew how he was feeling.

As Gina's rolling her eyes and groaning loudly, head thrown back, Rosa is demanding, "Tell me. No lies. I know you know who did this to you."

"But if I tell you then it's gonna be a hell of a lot harder to forget about it later."

Rosa walks closer to him, so that she's directly in front of his face, which, uh. Okay. Hi, Rosa.

He's never found her quite as intimidating as other people do, but he has to admit that he's not exactly enjoying being stared down by her.

Then, she's seething at him, a hot glare in her eyes. "Jake. Why–"

_(("–can't you do your fucking job? If I have to go behind bars, you just remember that you'll be the one who put me there." Roger growls, punctuating every few words with a kick to Jake's chest.))_

" _Jake!_ " Gina shouts at him. Rosa is standing awkwardly behind her, a good two meters or so away from the hospital bed.

"I'm okay," Jake gasps, even though he doesn't feel that way at all.

"Breathe." Gina urges, carding her hands through his hair. He winces at the familiar motion and his head feels faint; throat tight. His face is wet and he wonders if it's tears on his cheeks or blood.

_((Roger tugs his hair, pulling Jake's head up from the ground. He crouches down to look his son in his eyes. Jake's eyes are bleary, Roger's are full of fire._

_"Useless fucking cop." Roger sniggers.))_

He can hear beeping in the background, but he doesn't really understand what's going on, there are voices surrounding him but he can only focus on–

_(("This is why I could never stay around, this is why I never showed up, because you always disappoint me, don't you Jake?" Roger asks, hands shooting out to wrap against Jake's neck. The world is becoming hazy._

_"Da–"_

_Roger's frowns and tightens his grip. "Don't you?"_

_Jake tries his best to nod.))_

Someone is screaming. His throat is on fire. People are shouting. He feels like his ears are bleeding. He doesn't know where Gina is. He wants to know where Gina is. He doesn't know where his dad is. ~~He's scared of his dad.~~ He loves his dad. He doesn't know what's happening. _He doesn't know what's–_

The world stops, turns upside down, and goes black.

Hello darkness, my old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I COULDN'T RESIST THE LAST SENTENCE AND I'M NOT SORRY
> 
> sorry for the delay! school has been hectic and I just hadn't gotten around to posting/editing this chapter. I've had so much homework and too many quizzes/tests lately. hopefully the next one will be out sooner.
> 
> hope y'all either enjoyed this chapter or absolutely hated it! feel free to send me hate mail xx
> 
> but actually, preferably don't. I'm very emotional right now, because cHELSEA PERETTI AKA GINA LINETTI IS LEAVING?? I love her so much and I cri ;w; at least she's only "moving down the street" or whatever but guys. g u y s. TEARZ.


	3. Let Me Be Steady

Gina had been there for Jake a lot.

She's seen him at his lowest and she's seen him at all of his highests (aka, every Die Hard release date.)

But she has never seen him as bad as this.

He's practically convulsing on the bed, which, okay, maybe a dramatic description but he is seriously freaking the fuck out. His breath is coming out in shudders and his head is actually convulsing off of his pillow, like someone drowning and trying to come up for air but never quite getting there. He doesn't seem to remember how to exhale, so he's choking on the excess and he looks downright demonic.

When Gina gets to Roger, she is going to _burn him down._

Beside her, Rosa is freaking out herself, slowly and probably unintentionally backing away from Jake "the Exorcist" Peralta. The nurses are pushing them away and presumably pumping him with more drugs, because he calms a minute or two later and his movements still as he becomes unconscious.

He looks like a corpse.

Gina turns to Rosa, but she's already out the door. Since when is Gina the glitter glue between all of these (2) people? She's already pushing the image of Jake looking like he was dying out of her head as she goes to follow Rosa.

She doesn't remember Jake panicking that hard. Ever.

The kid was always bruised one way or another, and people never really cared to notice, since he was also an actual accident prone kid; just not as much as everybody thought. Plus, Roger was always so charming to everybody else and Gina's mom had never understood why her daughter disliked the man so much.

Fetus Jake had sworn her to secrecy, threatening their friendship.

_(("You gotta swear not to tell anyone."_

_"But why?"_

_"Because if you do, then I'll stop being friends with you. I'll stop talking to you forever. 'Cause dad'll get real mad."_

_"Forever forever?"_

_"Infinite forever."))_

Being a kid who had hardly started school with the threat of her only friend leaving her infinite forever and the thought of _her_ making Roger mad at Jake... Well, that was a pretty big thing to threaten, so tiny Gina had agreed.

It's her biggest regret.

The nurse is shooing her out, something about her being nuisance. She was just standing. Gina's pretty sure that the nurse just can't handle her inner wolf power, radiating into the room.

As much as she wants to stay with Jake, she's being told that he'll be unconscious for a while, and she really needs to find Rosa, anyhow.

She's had too much losing lately.

•

The two of them sat together, in the hospital, awake, for the entire night. Gina's head leaning on Rosa's shoulder, Rosa's head on Gina's head because Rosa is a secret softie.

Neither of them can sleep.

There's a silent agreement that they need to be there for Jake.

It's six in the morning, seven hours after they arrived, when Rosa abruptly gets up from the chair and leaves.

•

Rosa is not crying.

She's also not thinking about how Jake's just been through a traumatic _something_ and _she_ set off his fuse.

_((Jake, going completely still after she asks why he won't tell her. Swallowing thickly and then his eyes going blank._

_"Jake?" Rosa asks, in as soft a voice she can manage. He sucks a quick breath in and then Gina's in front of him, pushing Rosa to side._

_She's trying to calm him in ways that Rosa knows; not that they know that. She always turns right back around in the direction she came from but still, Gina's movements are familiar to even her._

_But her comforts have the opposite effect as intended and Gina immediately jumps back, like a cat sprayed with water._

_That's when the nurses come in.))_

"Oh god, not you too."

Rosa wipes her eyes quickly, drying her hands on her shirt to look at Gina.

"I'm not doing anything. I'm normal," Rosa insists. Then, more accusatory, "What are _you_ doing?"

"I'm trying to keep track of all my ducklings." Gina says. She points to Rosa, "You're one of them. Don't go waddling off places, my little duck baby."

"Call me your little duck baby again and I will slice your head off of your body."

"Hot." Gina comments. Rosa rolls her eyes.

"But seriously," Gina says, "You good, girl?"

"Am I good?" Rosa asks, furiously. What kind of question is that? "Who cares? What about Jake?"

"Yes, he's one of my duck babies too," Gina subsides, and Rosa takes a step forward, ready to make good on her promise. Gina puts her hands up in mock surrender, "But I need to check on all of my..."

She squints. Rosa is readying her attacks. She has at least seven fully thought out plans of Gina's murder. Gina finishes, carefully, "People babies."

"Better. But you're on thin ice."

Gina gives her two thumbs up. She wiggles her hand. "And you...?"

Rosa gives her a wobbly, singular thumbs up/thumbs side.

"Good enough." Gina shrugs.

Rosa feels a yawn coming on. Ugh. Fuck. Nope, nope, she isn't tired–

"You be a tired bitch." Gina says. Rosa glares. It's been a long night.

"Sleep." Gina instructs. Rosa's glare only grows more fiery. Sleep does actually sound like a good option, but she can see bags under Gina's eyes too.

"I'm only sleeping if you sleep too."

"I have the power of Katy Perry in me," Gina replies with an air of indignancy, "Hear me _roar_."

"Katy Perry still sleeps."

"Hmm. Does she though? How would you know?"

Rosa sighs, dramatically, and ignores Gina. "We can take turns. I'll stay here with Jake, you go home. You better sleep for at least four hours, got it?"

"Wait a minute, why do _I_ have to take the first nap shift?"

Rosa shrugs. "It was your idea."

"True dat, sister, but I meant for you."

"Sucks to suck." Rosa says.

Gina holds back a yawn herself, turning around quick enough that Rosa can only assume that Gina didn't want her to see it. Sucks to suck indeed.

"See you in four hours." Rosa tells her.

"Nuh-uh, you're leaving first." Gina argues. "Rock paper scissors?"

"Winner gets to stay." Rosa agrees.

Rock, paper...

"Ha! Snip, snip, _bitch_ ," Gina exclaims. "I win, you have to go home and take care of yourself, you loser."

"Yeah, whatever." Rosa grumbles, turning around. "I will be back very, very soon. Maybe an hour."

"If you come back in a time frame that's any less than four hours, I will cry. I will cry so hard," Gina threatens, "There will be so many tears streaming down my face, and I will want comfort. I will want a shit load of comfort, Rosa."

Rosa crinkles her nose. "Hugs?"

"Is that an invitation?" Gina asks, holding out her arms with a smirk on her face.

"Fine!" Rosa exclaims. "Four hour minimum."

Rosa leaves and Gina makes her way back to Jake's room, a coffee in hand and an insistence that Gina is Jake's sister so yes she's allowed to be there.

They're sibs from different cribs, yo.

_(Yes, Gina is gangster.)_

•

It went well, the first hour or so of Gina's shift. She did have to down three cups of coffee so that her eyes would stay open (which they did, except for that one time where she blinked for fifteen minutes straight.)

When Gina goes to get her fourth cup, Jake is still in a medically-induced sleep. God, if she doesn't want to do the same (sleep. Not the drug part.)

Down the hall, she smells shit. More specifically, a piece of shit.

She turns her head.

Roger Peralta is eyeing the halls.

Fuck.

Forgetting her coffee— no need for it anymore, she's suddenly wide awake— she spins on her heels and power walks down the opposite end of the hall. Gina grabs an empty wheelchair from a nurse walking the opposite way, yelling something in Spanish that might have something to do with geese, popsicles and/or the president, and she bangs open Jake's hospital door.

She lugs his unconscious, (probably, at that point, just sleeping) body onto the chair and pushes him out of the room, adrenaline running through her veins. She rushes down the same direction Roger had been going, hopefully out-walking him.

She tunes out the confused nurses asking her questions, yelling more gibberish in Spanish as if that would answer any questions they have.

Thank god he was on ground floor.

•

The next time Rosa sees Jake, he's sleeping on her couch.

If she was anyone else, she would scream. Loudly.

As it was, she was not anyone else and so, Rosa simply stares and is about to shout _what the fuck_ really loudly, but then Jake wakes up.

He startles, sleep-deprived eyes fluttering open. He drowsily grins at her, eyes not fully open. "Whazzup, Roslie?"

It's proof of how tired he is that he would dare use the nickname that she threatened to castrate him over.

Well, the nickname was technically Rosalina (which is longer than her actual name, so why he tried that as a nickname is beyond her) but she gets his point.

"You're in my fucking living room." Rosa hisses at him, though, softer than her usual hiss. She doesn't wanna repeat what happened the night before. "Why aren't you in the hospital?!"

"Uhhh, di'n wan'be." Jake groans, smushing his face into her couch.

"Jake." Rosa exclaims, hoping his drugged, tired brain is coherent enough to come up with an actual answer. "That's not a good enough explanation."

He doesn't respond. She impatiently shakes his shoulder and he has a full body flinch. Instantly, she feels a twinge of regret but on the bright side, she has his attention. She snaps her fingers in his face. Again, he flinches, despite staring at her and seeing her move her hand in front of his face.

"Whaaaa?"

"You're. In. My. Living. Room."

"Ay," Jake grins, "I am! You's smort."

"Why are you in my living room?" Rosa says, practically shouting.

"Dunno, Gina just upped my druggies and then I t'was here!" Jake laughs.

"Gina? Is Gina here too?"

"Yeah I am, dog."

Rosa did _not_ squeal. Not even a little. She spins around and sure enough, Gina is standing behind her.

"I was pissing." Gina informs her.

" _WHY ARE YOU TWO HERE AND NOT AT THE HOSPITAL?_ " Rosa screams.

"I saw Roger and I panicked." Gina deadpans. Still not an answer. _What the fuck does that mean?_

"Dad?" Jake mumbles, from face down on the couch.

"And I didn't up Jake's druggies," Gina adds, "He was already totally out. He woke up for five seconds in my car to tell me he saw a beluga headed unicorn."

"So Jake's an escaped hospital convict." Rosa replies, crossing her arms and completely ignoring the beluga headed unicorn piece (wouldn't it then just be a horse, though? Questions for later.)

"It's not a big deal." Gina responds, rolling her eyes.

"Did you not hear me when I said that he looked like a horse sat on him? Should I be more visual? The nurse said he was going to stay in the hospital for another week, in the very, _very_ least." Rosa stresses. And she never stresses. But there is a broken Jake on her couch.

"So it's a bit of a big deal!" Gina amends, "He was going to escape anyway, at least this way we know where he is!"

Jake had always hated hospitals, sure, but, "His body is so mangled that he would never have made it out of his room without you."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"Please don't." Rosa retorted. "And I still don't know why you broke him out of the hospital. I thought we both agreed to take care of Jake. How can we take care of Jake in my apartment, while he's on this couch and not in a hospital?"

Gina sighed. Loudly. "Alright, fine! The whore who beat up Jake showed up. It wasn't safe."

Rosa paused. Wait, she said Roger...

"Jake's dad is that big of a piece of shit?!"

"I know right? He's an absolute turd." Gina excitedly agrees while Jake musters up a light, "... 'ey... tha's... is _mean_..."

"Jake has stuckholmes syndrom." Gina groans.

"You mean stockholm?"

"Sure." Gina responded, deflating onto the floor. "I needed to get him somewhere safe."

"And you brought him _here?_ "

"I didn't know who else to call!" Gina says, from the floor, "And besides, nobody else knows where you live."

That was true.

"Well, what do we do now, genius?" Rosa asks.

"Call the police?" Gina suggests.

"We _are_ the police."

"Exactly!"

"What? How can we call ourselves for help if we don't know what to do?"

"That's where you're wrong, my lovely little chicken head!"

"What did you just call me?" Rosa growls, reach into the compartment in the sleeve of her jacket to grab her _very_ sharp butter knife.

"No time to think about what's in the past, Rosa, only time to look forward, into the bright, bright future." Gina says, undeflating, though still sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the floor. She's using big hand motions, which she only does when she thinks she's got a good idea. When _she thinks_ she has a good idea. It doesn't necessarily mean it actually _is_ a good idea.

"I see a big black hole in the future." Rosa grumbles. Sue her if she doesn't trust Gina's _brilliant mind._

"That's because you're a big ball of sad energy, Rosa." Gina replies, "Most of the time, it doesn't really jive with my vibe, but I'm kind of into your emo penguin vibe."

"My _what_ vibe?"

"What did I just say about thinking about the past?" Gina repeated, "Anyway, we should just bring Jake to the precinct."

"You're suggesting we bring an escaped convict to a police station?" Rosa asks, incredulous.

"He's not an escaped convict."

"He escaped, and he did something illegal," Rosa corrects, "Therefore, escaped convict."

Gina shrugs. "Fine. But yes, I am suggesting we bring Jake Peralta, the escaped hospital convict to the precinct. Think about it, he can't go missing because we'll be able to see him all the time, just plop him in a chair and he'll barely be able to move, and Roger can't pop in without somebody noticing."

... That actually kind of made sense.

"Huh."

 _((Rosa starts pouring a water into a bowl and Gina questions why they would want to do the warm water prank on Jake_  now, _but is then told that she's actually going to pour it on Jake's face to wake him up. Which also kind of makes sense._

_They wake him up, get past the Rosa knows part relatively quickly, Jake only shouts a little bit, and tell him he's going to be late for work. They don't even need to tell him their plan of keeping him safe, since he really probably was going to try to break out of the hospital himself and he wouldn't miss going to work unless he absolutely had to._

_For him, an entire broken body is not a reason to skip work._

_So for once, his stubborness works out.))_

·

Jake comes into work eleven minutes and twenty seven seconds late, which is nothing out of the ordinary. What is out of the ordinary, is the giant bruise that sweeps across his face and the gash on his forehead. He walks with a slight limp, arms swinging carefully and in a controlled manner. Gina and Rosa flank his sides. His throat has hand prints on it.

Upon seeing Amy's obvious concern (she can only assume she isn't being as subtle with her emotions as she usually is), Rosa and Gina depart to their desks.

Amy's on her feet the second she sees him. "Oh my god."

"Amy–"

"Oh my god."

"Amy–"

"I meant what I said about the hospital!"

"Amy." Jake placates, "I've already been. I'm okay."

"You don't look okay." Amy argues, imagining all the various ways that Jake could have gotten those exact bruises. Strangulation for sure, but who or what gave him the ugly obviously-previously-bleeding thing on his forehead that technically blends in with the rest of his face? What was the situation with the rest of his body, why the hell was he limping, was there something wrong with his arms—

"I told you over the phone. Just–" Jake pauses and appears to think over his words before the following sentence fumbles out of his mouth: "There was a thing. With a perp. Happens all the time, not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Amy asks, taken aback. "What do you mean, not a big deal? Have you _seen_ your face?"

"The doctor said I'm fine."

Gina chooses this moment to chime in. She declares, "The super cool lady doctor did not say that in any way, shape or form and probably most likely said the complete opposite!"

Jake is visibly disgruntled. "It's not a big deal. I'm still fully functioning. I can walk just fine."

Amy is ready to argue with him, already forming a ten point essay in her head. She has her thesis ready already. Jake is absolutely delusional.

Before Amy has the chance to say any of her essay, Holt says, loudly, "Detective Peralta. My office. Now."

He's gone in a flash. Amy is still fuming as she watches Jake go, practically skipping with an excuse to get away from her.

God, what an idiot.

·

"Peralta, have a seat." Holt said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

"Sure can do!" Jake chirped, doing as he was told.

"I'd like to talk to you about a more..." Holt paused, squinting his eyes. "Personal matter."

Jake immediately groaned. Not him too.

"Did Gina put you up to this?"

"Gina did nothing of the sort, but I know for a fact that the injuries prominent on your body did not occur during work hours." Holt replied. "Or at least, the causes were not related to any of your current cases."

"How'd you make that assumption?" Jake wondered.

"You aren't parading your injury around the precinct and relating it to those inane movies you watch. I can only assume that it is therefore not something you take pride in."

Jake sighed, picking at the arm of the chair, much to Holt's disapproval. Jake confirmed, "You're right. But it's not a big deal, so don't worry your perfectly average shaped head about it."

"Though I appreciate the compliment, my head is actually two centimeters too wide and three centimeters too tall to be perfectly average," Holt corrected, leaning back in his chair, "And please know that flattery will get you nowhere, because I am still intrigued by your contusions."

"But you can only have one concussion."

"I said contusion."

"Yeah, concussion." Jake repeated, confused. Holt sighed.

"One might say that I am even a tad concerned. You're very capable of defending yourself."

"Awh, thanks Captain." Jake gushed.

"Don't let my own acts of flattery distract you. You are not leaving this room until I am informed of why the state of your body is as it currently is."

"Sir, with all due respect, I'll have to be a lotta bitta more drunk before I divulge that information."

"Divulge?" Holt questioned, because he didn't just ask, he questioned. "That's a difficult word for you, Peralta. I'm impressed."

"Awh, thanks–"

"No time for flattery." Holt interrupted, "If you don't tell me why you have received such injuries, I won't give you any cases for the next five weeks."

"What?" Jake exclaimed, "You can't do that!"

"You're right. I can't." Holt sighed. "You've seen through my ruse."

Jake grinned.

"But, I can give you low level cases, giving all of the 'cool' and 'awesome sauce' cases to the likes of Amy."

Jake's grin dropped. "What? But that'll get me way behind in our bet!"

"Yes," Holt agreed, stony faced, "It would."

Jake huffed, playing with the sleek fabric of his tie. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Holt patient and Jake unwilling.

Quietly, Jake mumbled, "My dad."

Holt gave a look of confusion. "Could you speak up, Peralta?"

"I said my dad." Jake bit out.

"Mm." Holt said, mulling it over. "I heard you the first time."

"Then why–"

"I was in shock," Holt replied, "I still am. I'm very surprised at your confession."

His face remained stoic as usual.

There were a few more moments of silence.

"I'd like to..." Holt meaningfully paused. "Talk. To your father."

"No." Jake disagreed immediately. "No 'talking' of any sort."

"I am a police captain." Holt said, "No violence of any kind will occur, I assure you."

Jake stared. "No. You're not going to him."

"Peralta–"

"Not without me." Jake added. "And not because I want you to do this. But because I think you'll do it anyway and I want to be there to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Peralta," Holt replied, "When have I ever done anything stupid?"

Rising out of his chair, he leans in and hisses, "You broke your arm hula hooping."

Grumpily, he stomps out of Holt's office just as the man himself calls after him, "It was a sprain of the wrist, Peralta."

He gently closed the door (Jake Peralta respected doors, thank you very much) and began the process of dreading his father all over again.

·

 **(3:21pm) better than amy:** hey dad. me + captain holt want to meet up w you  
**(3:32pm) dad:** y  
**(3:33pm) better than amy:** coz. think he wants to talk to you about our case. cud be wrong. idk  
**(3:37pm) dad:** k  
**(3:37pm) better than amy:** is that a yes  
**(3:42pm) dad:** ya  
**(3:43pm) better than amy:** when can we meet up  
**(3:50pm) dad:** i'm free  
**(3:52pm) better than amy:** meet at my apt in 1 hour?  
**(3:57pm) dad:** k

•

Like father like son, Roger is late.

"Your father is not punctual." Holt notes. He's standing beside Jake's couch, where Jake is sat, and he's holding his hands behind his back. He isn't twiddling them, but Jake can detect a twitch every now and then.

"Well, yeah, he birthed me, didn't he?" Jake responds, "We got a lot in common."

Holt fixes Jake with a long, unreadable look of... something. "I very much doubt that."

Jake groans. "Why can't somebody just be nice to my dad for once?"

"Why must your father be not nice to you?" Holt asks.

"He's only _not nice_ when I do something bad."

"And... hitting is your idea of a good punishment?" Holt questions, holding eye contact with Jake. Jake eventually looks away, sheepishly.

He hesitates, so Holt continues, "If you and Amy had a male son, perhaps by the name of William, would you hit him?"

"Wait, why is it Amy and me—"

"That would be Amy and _I_ , Peralta, and because though the situation is hypothetical, one must paint the correct picture in order to properly visualize it."

"But why is Amy and _I_ smushing booties in the correct picture?" Jake asks, squinting his eyes at his captain.

"I feel as though you are focusing on the wrong part of the hypothetical." Holt rebutts. Ha. _Butts_. "Would you ever hit your son?"

"No, never." Jake replies, immediately.

"Then why can your father hit _you?_ " Holt inquires. Jake looks back up to Holt. His gaze is hard, but not unkind. It's warm.

Jake can honestly not think of an answer.

Roger chooses that moment to barge through the doors of Jake's home.

"Any new leads? Roger asks, though he says it more like he's announcing something.

"Actually," Holt replies, "We're passing your case onto another precinct."

Wait, what? Jake tries to make Holt turn around, to face him, so that he can answer his questioning looks. The man does nothing of the sort.

"What do you mean you're passing it onto another precinct?" Roger asks, his voice with a tinge of a whine.

"I mean," Holt replies, stern, "That you will no longer be working alongside your son or with this precinct."

"Yeah, I got, that, I ain't a dumbass." Roger says. Holt raises an eyebrow at that statement.

"And yet, you use the contraction _ain't_." Holt responds easily and with quotation marks.

"Sorry I _ain't_ no fancy-talker like you," Roger replies, "But I _ain't_ hoity-toity. I just wanna know why. Jake, did you have something to do with this?"

Bewildered, Jake looks up to his dad. "N-no."

Oh.

He was shaking, a little bit.

"Because," Holt puts in, "I have reason to believe that you should not be around or in the presence of your son."

Roger crosses his arms. "Oh yeah? What reasons."

"Peralta's face and whatever other injuries he's hiding from me." Holt replies. Again, Jake wants to melt into a puddle and just go away, despite the fact that he set this up. Why is he so stupid? Why does he make these kinds of decisions? Why is he such an idiot?

"Are you implying that I would hit my boy?" Roger laughs. He turns to Jake. "Tell him he's wrong."

"I am having this conversation with you." Holt reprimands, stepping in front of Jake. Jake has never been so happy to be within somebody's shadow. "Do you deny that you hit Peralta?"

"Uh, duh."

"Then why is your fist so bruised?" Holt asks, calmly gesturing to Roger's hand which was, indeed, splotched with purple.

"Punched a wall, didn't I, Jake?" Roger replies, just as cool and collected as he turns to Jake.

He feels a chill run down his spine. He wants to run in circles, curl up into a ball, shake out his hands or just go home– basically do anything other than have his dad's hot glare burning into him. Wordlessly, he presses his lips together, eyes wandering everywhere other than Roger, letting his nod answer for him.

"See?" Roger asks, looking back at Holt.

Jake nervously writhes his hands together.

"Did you happen to hit anything or any _one_ else, in the past few days or so?" Holt questions, raising his eyebrow.

"Jake?" Roger asks, looking back at his son. Jake's eyes are comfortably at his feet, avoiding the conversation completely.

"Jake?" Roger asks again, raising his voice a tad, and Jake can't help his flinch, the way his shoulders are cowering; tense. He's miserable. There's a burn behind his eyes because _god dammit_ he's stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

"With all due..." Holt trails off, pausing Roger. He squints his eyes. " _Respect_ , Mr. Peralta. I asked you this question. Not Detective Peralta."

Jake feels a child again, listening to his parents argue for the millionth time while he sat in the room over, wishing that he could stop their fighting, that he could be the perfect son for them.

"Then no." Roger shrugs, and Jake feels a shudder down his spine, face still feeling his punishment. His hands stick together with sweat.

"Mister Roger Peralta, I am inclined to call you a liar. Perhaps even a bold-faced one, as you are clearly comfortable with lying to the authorities,  _sir._ " Holt says, using the formal pronoun sardonically.

"I don't got anything to say. Maybe Jakey here just made it all up." Roger replies, a little less easy.

"You cannot make up bruises."

"Well, he's accusin' me, right? So he could've gotten someone else to do it. Or went to some SFX guru or whatever." Roger says. Despite his relaxed language, Jake can tell he's a little more frantic than before. He knows that Holt can tell too.

"I assure you, Detective Peralta has not been in contact with anyone else that we could have plausibly suspected of assaulting him."

"That you know of."

"I trust my detective to be honest with me." Holt says, looking at Jake out of the corner of his eye. Jake's cheeks burn.

Holt continues, "You can deny it all you want, Mr. Peralta, but if you come near my son again, there will be heavy consequences to your unfortunate actions."

"What?" Roger exclaims, "You can't just keep me from _my son_ like that."

"I can." Holt disagrees, "And I will."

Jake's nails dig into his left palm. His hair is too long on the back of his neck. He hasn't buttoned his shirt all the way. His mismatched socks aren't pulled up and his shoes aren't tied tightly. He blinks quickly, trying to keep the embarrassing tears at bay.

"C'mon, Jake, are you listening to this robot?" Roger mocks, "Like my boy would ever let some dumbass cop keep me away from him."

Jake lowly sucks in a cool breath of air and his nails draw blood. He hasn't looked up from the spot on the ground.

"Jake?" Holt asks, finally turning towards him, cautious.

Jake squeezes his eyes shut. His entire body feels like a wound up rubber band. He's not gonna cry, he's not gonna cry, he's not gonna cry– _shit_.

This was a bad idea. This was a _really fucking bad idea._

He feels somebody come near him, feels somebody's presence and his eyes shoot open. He feels like an animal. Wildly, he pushes at that presence, scrabbling to the ground and, embarrassingly, he's running away. He doesn't know where he's going and he's forgetting where exactly he was, but all he knows is that he's going to be gone.

·

It had been two hours since Jake left the precinct with Holt.

Gina's phone begins bleating loudly. Really, _bleat_. Like a goat. That was Holt's ringtone.

"Gina Linetti, your lord and savior speaking." she responds.

"Yes, Gina, I'm afraid I may have made a slight miscalculation."

He sounds sheepish, which is funny considering his ringtone. She thinks to bring it up, but then a wave of concern washes over her.

"Wait. Is Jake with you?"

There's a pause. Dread grows in Gina's stomach.

"I'm afraid that he is not."

Oh fucking _shit_.

" _Where the fuck did he go?!_ "

Holt doesn't even reprimand her for cursing. "I'm not sure. He lost me outside of his apartment building. As he took presumably took the elevator, I was forced to take the stairs. As you know, Jake lives on the sixth floor and I am not as quick on my feet as I would like to be."

She's about to shout something or other about how the entire universe is lost, but then it clicks. Obviously.

Oh, _Jake_.

"I know where he is. Don't worry about it, Ray-Ray, I got it from here."

She hangs up, ducks her head under her desk to grab her purse and when she looks up, the entire squad is staring at her. Nearly nose to nose.

And yes, she screams.

But it was beautiful, because Gina was beautiful and every noise, sound and movement she made was therefore beautiful.

"JAKE IS _MISSING?_ " Charles screams right back. Gina rubs at her ear.

"Is he okay?" Amy frantically worries.

"Do you need backup?" Rosa offers, motorcycle helmet already in hand.

"Does he need a hug?" Terry asks urgently, "Or do I need to give someone a stern talking to make them feel bad about their actions?"

"No, debatable, nah, obviously, and _really?_ " Gina answers. The squad tries to figure out what she answered what to while she continues, "You've got these, Terry–" she strokes (and squeezes) his biceps, "–And all you're offering me is a stern talking to?"

"Terry is against violence." Terry responds, "And Terry has daughters. I don't beat up people, I just put help put them away. Plus, I've gotten really good at being stern, yet loving–"

"BORING." Gina replies, "Call me back if you'll beat someone up for me or if you're available for a little traffic jamming, if you know what I'm saying."

She punctuates her remark with a wink.

He fixes her with a disapproving look. "Terry has a wife."

"Does he?"

And with that, she's off to see Jake.

•

It wasn't that long of a drive, but it was too long anyway. The drive was tiring. Gina was still tired. She was worn out.

Gina didn't need to see the sign to know where she needed to go. She parked her car, traipsed her way to the correct building and inhaled the smell.

It was the smell of oily pizza.

Which made sense, since Sal's was a pizza joint, but it also reeked of tons of memories, some Gina wasn't particularly fond of.

Speaking of memories, Marcos was at the till. He caught her eye the moment she walked through the door, bell jingling above her. Marcos was someone she had not had a fling with, since he had instead chosen Jake over her, which she supposed was fine.

Still, despite their history, he jerked his head in the general direction of where Gina presumed Jake to be. He always sat in the same seat, anyway, so she didn't need the direction, but she appreciated it.

Instead of heading directly to Jake, who she could see was being emo, she walked straight ahead. "I'll have a slice with everything on it and a slice with just cheese, no sauce."

Marcos nodded, told her the price and she handed him a twenty, walking away before he could offer her her change.

She slid into the booth the furthest from the window. Jake didn't seem particularly surprised to see her, probably having heard her voice. Just continued being a sad duck.

"I don't know why you insist on going here every time you need to dramatically mope." Gina greets.

"Hey, Gina." he mutters.

"Shouldn't you be more excited to see your best friend in the entire world? Or, even remove that, I'm still _Gina Linetti_ , Jake." she says, her voice haughty as it always is, but softer; a tone she only reserved for comforting people. She slid her hands across the table, not touching Jake, but the thought was there.

"Goose, I'm not _really_ in the mood." he says, quietly, pulling away from her. She sighs. He continues to pick at his napkin. He hadn't even bothered to order; something he never remembered to do. Hence, Gina's orders.

"Look, kiddo, Holt's pretty worried about you. We're all worried about you." Gina says, dropping all her sass entirely.

"Yeah, _I know_." Jake replies, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. He glances at her for a second, fire in his eyes, but then it extinguishes. Gina strains to hear him mumble, "I don't want them to worry."

"Don't worry about them worrying about you, because then they'll worry about you worrying about them and then you'll have to worry about them worrying about you worrying about them worrying about you." Gina rambles, heaving a long breath after that sentence, "Which is a very boring circle, if you ask me."

"Is any circle interesting?" Jake asks, his halfhearted attempt at humour.

"My royal aura, which surrounds me, is a circle, and it's the most interesting circle there is, because it's mine." Gina says. Jake pops a smile, for a second, and yes, God put Gina on Her earth to be fabulous, but She also put her on Her earth to see things like _that_.

She'd never admit it, but Jake had one of the nicest smiles in the world.

"Y'know," Gina says, slyly, "Amy was pretty worried too."

For a moment, he smiles again (a disgusting, lovesick one) and then he barely conceals it, huffing and saying, "And? That's cool, I guess, or, y'know, suppose, or whatever. She's only Amy."

"Yeah, and you're only in love with her." Gina replies, waggling her eyebrows.

"I am not in love with her!" Jake exclaims, not at all convincing. His cheeks are pink.

"Sure, kiddo." Gina grins. Jake rolls his eyes at her, but he's smiling too.

The smell of pizza grows stronger. Marcos slides two pieces of pizza onto their table. "One slice with everything, and one with just cheese."

Marcos glances at Jake, looking like he wants to say something, about Jake's face maybe, or his dad, but instead all he says is, "Couldn't get yours at display temperature, since we just made it, but we stuck it in the freezer for two minutes and then the fridge for fifteen seconds."

"I taught you well." Jake says with a tight smile. Marcos awkwardly nods and then leaves them be.

The senior workers knew about Jake's dad. He'd come, crying, into the pizzeria more than enough times to put the pieces together.

And then there was the fact that he was even less good about the things his daddy did when he was seven. Jake had spilled all the beans when his dad had left him at Sal's, gone to say hello to a lady with a big butt. He must've liked her, because he didn't come back to Jake and Karen for another five years. He had, however, promised to come home for every single one of Jake's birthdays, and then when he'd shown up at Jake's twelfth birthday, he'd fed his son alcohol ("You're a _man_ , now!") and pushed him down the stairs (because Jake's obvious drunkenness had gotten Roger in trouble.)

So there was that.

They both poke at their pizzas. Gina's was the one with just cheese, because when she was eleven, she decided she was on a vegetable and meat free diet and therefore, she couldn't have sauce or toppings. Though she now ate whatever she damn wanted to, Gina Linetti won't be listening to any dumb weight loss fads since she's already perfect, traditions were traditions and traditions stuck. Or, if you were Roger Peralta, you were still a tradition (he always traditionally beat Jake up) and you not only stuck (unfortunately), you also sucked.

Jake's pizza was the everything pizza, because in order to combat Gina's stupid diet, he had decided that he was going to do the no-diet diet and eat everything. He stopped this diet when Karen tried to use it to her advantage and feet him vegetables, which was a definite no-go.

Gina studies her friend.

She could see dried blood on his hands. She made a mental note to buy him a stress ball, or one of those squishies that was in the shape of cool foods.

He looked tired, like he'd just come back from a war. And sure, he was a detective and shit happens, but Jacob Peralta, of all people, could never deserve to look like a battle-weary soldier.

He picked at his everything pizza.

Gina picked at her own almost-nothing pizza. It was her turn to be quiet. She says, almost a whisper, "Sorry I couldn't protect you."

Jake looks up at her, alarmed. "What?"

"I let my ego get ahead of me and I wasn't keeping an eye on you like I said I was going to. Sorry you got beat up."

"It's not your fault." Jake says, firmly.

"It's not yours, either." Gina replies, just as firm. Jake looks like he disagrees, but he just shrugs.

"Yeah, okay. Fine." he says, begrudgingly agreeing with her.

Gina flashes him a quick smile, and then takes a deep breath. "Okay, gross, we're done with feelings now, right?"

He gives a light laugh. "So far, yeah. I might spaz a bit more later, though."

"That's fine with me, kiddo," Gina responds, "Just as long as you don't rub your snot on me. My clothes are designer."

Jake raises an eyebrow. "No, they aren't."

"They were made by a designer, weren't they? That means they're designer."

"Gina, you got that shirt from Forever 21."

"Shhh, don't reveal my secrets."

·

"So where's your dad now?" Gina asks later, after Sal's. They're just walking, at that point. Jake didn't want to have to deal with the precinct's concern, and Gina didn't really feel like driving.

"I don't know. We shouldn't have to worry about him though, because Holt sent his case across town."

Gina's already grinning. "Oooh, go Captain Holt!"

"Yeah, I guess." Jake says, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk.

"You seriously still love him?" Gina asks, then she motions to his body, "After this?"

"He's still my dad." Jake replies, irritably.

"Every time that horny bullfrog sees you, he comes up with a reason to beat you up." Gina challenges, "He's a _dick_."

"Yeah, I know, Gina," Jake growls, "But family sticks together. I'm not going to abandon him like he abandoned me."

"Why?" Gina questions, loudly, throwing her hands in the air, and not in a fun way.

"Because then I'm no better than he is." Jake answers immediately. "And I don't wanna do that to him."

Gina's silent, but only for a moment. "So you recognize that he's unfair to you."

"Yes! I know that!" Jake shouts, "But I won't abandon him too because surprise, surprise, it feels like _shit_."

"But you're rewarding his shit," Gina complains and then puts her hand up to stop whatever remark was about to come out of his mouth, "And I don't mean putting a gold trophy in the toilet every time he pops a log out."

"Gross imagery, Gina."

"Yeah, whatever," Gina replies, waving him off, "My point is that he's being shitty and your response to that is to continue embracing him. Obviously, you believe in punishment, since he keeps punishing you and you're perfectly fine with it since you're an idiot—"

"I thought you were on _my_ side." Jake whines.

"Yes, but I still get to call your stupidness out." Gina says coolly, "And are you even listening to the right parts or just the part where I insulted you?"

Jake frowned. "Can't I listen to both?"

"You can, but you're awful at multitasking."

"Hey!"

"So, as I was saying," Gina continues, "Don't you think if he's being shitty, he deserves at least _some_ just desserts?"

Jake stares at her. "Why would I give him desserts?"

Gina groans. "His _just_ desserts. His— his, just like, a revenge but nice because I'm assuming that you don't wanna beat Mr. Push Pop up."

"... You aren't going to get Terry to beat him up, are you?"

"Actually, I already tried, but Terry said he didn't want to use his big biceps for violence."

"What?" Jake asks, befuddlement all over his face, "Then what's the point? He's got a wife already."

"I _know_ right?" Gina replies, before getting back on track. "You don't have to listen to me, and if you don't you won't, even though you should because I'm Gina Linetti, but I think you should really keep him at arm's distance."

Jake looks like he's mulling her words over. Hopefully, he really is.

"For your safety." Gina tacks on.

Jake sighs. "You're right."

Gina blinks. ...What.

"What?"

Jake gives her a confused look. "What do you mean, _what?_ Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

"Well, yeah, but why did _you_ want to say it?"

"I'm tired of these bruises." Jake explains, unconvincingly. At Gina's dead glare, he sighs again, louder this time, and adds, " _And_ I don't want him to hurt any of you guys. Not that he would, but, I don't want you guys to worry about me. It's exhausting to deal with."

"And it's exhausting to do." Gina agrees. Then, "Give me your phone."

"What?"

Gina is holding her hand out, impatiently. "I'm deleting his number from your phone. Cough it up, bite-sized, less-cool John McClane."

Jake snorts.

"You still compared me to John McClane, so that's still a compliment."

"Ugh, you're right. I take it back. But I still want your phone."

Jake gives a short laugh and shakes his head at her, but digs into his jean pocket to give her his phone.

She tries to first unlock his phone with A-M-E-S (2637) to which Jake whacks her shoulder in response. She sticks her tongue out at him, and enters the real combination, which is 0000. She swipes his home screen to the left, taps on his Contacts and reaches his contact _dad_.

"Ready?" she asks. Suddenly, he looks hesitant. He almost looks like he's going to protest, so Gina just deletes it.

"Hey!" Jake does, indeed, protest.

"No take backs." Gina says, handing him back his phone. "And no putting his number back in, not without my permission."

"Okay, _mom_."

"First, don't ever call me mom again or I will break into your house and steal all of your Die Hard CDs, and second, we both know you have his number memorized."

"Yeah, whatever." Jake grumbles, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

They walk in silence, side by side, along the streets of New York. Jake's still limping a little, but Gina won't offer help unless she wants to have Jake retaliate by being more reckless, or if he's about to fall over.

"We should go home."

Home without Roger.

Gina doesn't say it out loud, because she isn't a cheeseball, but her home is right there beside Jake.

"Yeah." Jake says, brushing his shoulder with hers. "Let's go home."

·

Gina drives Jake home and insists on sleeping over to protect him from the overactive bunny, if he comes over.

Then, to make things less awkward, Gina hogs Jake's bed and all of his blankets, almost pushes him off the bed before remembering that he actually needs the bed for once, and so instead, she rolls onto the ground herself (ouch) and takes his blankets with her. He can have the bed, but she's taking the blankets.

He doesn't complain, because he took some pain killers and he's a lightweight, so he's already out like a light and therefore unconscious and therefore unable to protest Gina's blanket usage.

Which is just fine by her.

·

It's two in the morning when Gina hears someone jiggling the doorknob. Jake is still out, but she's wide awake.

She stalks out to the door and peeps through the peep hole.

Ah.

It's an amalgamation of Donald Trump's hair, twenty seven day old sardines and pickle juice, all in one.

"What do you want?" Gina asks accusingly, whisper shouting, with barely concealed rage.

"To see my son." Jake's not dad seethed.

"With all due _nothing_ , jerk face, he's not your son." Gina growls.

"I fucked Karen and Jake popped out, I'd say he's my son." the dipstick wanker cretin loser says forcefully.

"If he's your son, then treat him like it." Gina snaps.

"Open the damn door, Linetti." he demands.

"No."

"Open it."

"I said _no_."

"And I said _open it!_ "

So Gina does.

She opens the door.

Then she punches him in the face.

And shuts the door again.

"Bye, male Felicia." Gina snarls, glancing back for a second to make sure that Jake has stayed asleep.

_"WHAT THE FUCK, LINETTI?!"_

He bangs on the door.

"You can leave or I'm calling Rosa. She won't stop at one punch." Gina threatens. She can hear Roger breathing heavily. He mutters, "Fuck you," and then he leaves.

Gina leans against the door and heaves a deep breath. Her heart is banging against her chest.

Fuck.

·

His dad doesn't come back again, for whatever reason.

Jake had been sure that he was going to stop by once more, at least. Weirdly, he's okay with his father's absence, for once.

Unfortunately, Jake is readmitted into the hospital. Because, y'know, broken body. He hates hospitals, yeah, but in the very least, his body now feels like sweet bliss. It's amazing what drugs can do for you.

He doesn't answer any of the precinct's questions, but he has a feeling they already know.

Regardless, Amy really was pretty frazzled over him. Which was... It was uh, it was cool. Yeah. Just cool.

Anyway.

Gina was overcompensating for being touchy-feely and had taken to stealing his candy, pens and toys from his desk, which she would then bring to the hospital to show off how rude she was being, but then she would leave all of the stuff there, so really, she was just bringing him a bunch of stuff.

Terry did not, in fact, get to give anyone a stern talking to and he also didn't beat anyone up. He did however, promise to hug Jake after he was sure that he wouldn't hurt him by doing so.

Rosa immediately marched up to Jake, whipped out her knives and asked where _he_ was. He assured her that no, he did not want her to kill anyone. She eyed him suspiciously and did not put the knives away, but she did to behind the hospital room door, in the shadows, where she continued to eye him suspiciously.

Charles pulled him in for a three minute long spiritual hug, which he timed and then added a bonus fifteen seconds on. Which happened. Not much to say, Jake was just very uncomfortable while Charles stood beside his bed, holding out his arms with his eyes closed while he occasionally making happy little sighs, which Jake did not enjoy listening to.

Scully and Hitchcock didn't notice anything. They had no idea what was happening.

Holt gave him a nod and did a weird hand motion including hand flutters, what Jake could only assume was a shadow puppet and then there was the motion of rapidly opening and closing his hands. Which Jake presumed was supposed to mean something, but it didn't, so he just nodded back, which he assumed pleased Holt.

All in all, life continued on.

And, it turned out, life without his dad wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He'd already been living without him most of his life, anyway.

In a few months, when he would receive a text, asking to meet up, Jake would calmly (calmly- _ish_ ) turn his phone back around, and later delete it (with the help of Gina, after a small argument and reminder of what happened last time.)

He was better off without him, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I made up for the long, long wait time by making this chapter longer than both of the first chapters put together... I thought of splitting them up, but decided I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer.
> 
> I feel like my characterization of Gina was less good this chapter, but I did want to make her more demure, since she may be Gina Linetti, but she's also Jake's oldest friend and she cares about him a lot and she's there for him when he needs her. idk, y'all can tell me what you think in the comments below :) constructive criticism is welcome. I wasn't entirely sure how to end this, since I've been careful throughout this entire story to make sure Jake always loves his dad and doesn't think he's a bad person, since I don't think, in this story anyway, Jake thinks his dad is bad, but I did want him to kind of like, take off the rose tinted glasses by the end of the fic.
> 
> I hope this was satisfactory for y'all, again, sorry for the wait! finished this yesterday and today after reading all of your guys' sweet comments :)
> 
> consider this my new years gift to you; hope y'all have a great 2019!!
> 
> tumblr: motherbucker  
> instagram: motherbvcker

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @motherbucker  
> instagram: @motherbvcker


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